Road to Redemption
by Imnuts
Summary: Um... just a violent scene that hit me on my head one day... Okay so Jim's being chased through the forest by Bular and Strickler, then things turn weird and unexpected. Warnings of blood! Lots of blood. And a tiny bit of language but not bad. I suck at summaries.


**Angst! And violence. And blood. And dismemberment. Yes I'm being evil causing pain and suffering everywhere I goooooo. That's just how it is! I might be related to Gunmar.  
**

 **Also, my apologies for any errors concerning details from the show (the few I've added), I only got to watch it once before I lost my internet, so I don't really remember much about anyone's backstory, but i don't think it'll be too obvious.**

 **So this is something that might have taken place at some point in… season 2? IN A TOTAL AU because Bular is still alive, Gunmar is still in the Darklands, Jim hasn't been there yet and the binding spell never happened, Strickler just used Barbara as in 'regular dating' ways to get under Jim's skin.**

 **Also Blinky is being a tiny bit of a racist jerk (like most trolls where changelings are concerned) because he don't think about what he's saying** **, but i forgive him since he's sort of blinded by the whole 'fight against Gunmar'-thing.  
**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoy this… I dunno, horror? Drama? ...Thing!  
**

* * *

How is he not dead?

Or... maybe he is... because he totally should be! The last thing he remembers is Bular throwing him into something hard and coming for him, backed up by Strickler -Stricklander- in his changeling-form.

Yep, he should be dead. Squished actually. Pulp. FUBAR!

So why isn't he? He definitely don't _feel_ dead. His head aches like- well, his entire _body_ aches like hell after running through the woods, trying to get some kind of chance to take out the huge, lumbering troll. Alone. At night. With no backup.

Are they playing him? Strickler would absolutely play and taunt him, but-

A memory flashes, Strickler's advancing, getting ahead of Bular, two unfamiliar daggers in his hands ready for the killing blow only to- No that can't be right… But Bular wouldn't just… He'd just step on the Trollhunter and be done with it.

So…

Why _is_ he not dead?

He decides to open his eyes, if only to get things over with. For all he knows they're standing right there, wanting him to _see_ his end as it comes.

Yes that's probably it.

Oh well, fuck it, he's beyond caring right now.

But when he does, everything is dark, with even darker spots dancing in front of his eyes and it's _quiet_. There's not a single sound. At all. Which sets his nerves on edge. Even in the dead of night _without_ trolls the forest shouldn't be _this_ quiet. With those two it's a wonder there's still a forest left standing that _can_ be quiet.

But there's not a troll in sight, changeling or gumm-gumm. Or Blinky or AARRRGH!.

Getting up on wobbly legs, slow and unsteady, head swimming and focus being unreliable at best, another memory flashes and the entire thing is so bizarre Jim can't stop snorting at the unlikeliness of it. Strickler on Bular's back, fangs and claws shining a dark troll-red and- wings? Savage snarls, Bular grabbing the air, fangs sinking into stony flesh...

 _Riiiight. Must've hit my head_ really _hard_.

But when he looks around there's evidence of a brutal fight all around. Churned-up dirt, broken branches, broken _trees…_

A _flipped boulder_.

With a start he notice his armor is gone, as is usual if he pass out, a trait of the amulet he can't stand. In a surge of panic he spins around looking for the faint blue- there. The amulet is in the grass not far from where he'd woken up. He summons the armor, Daylight in his hands in an instant, the faint, blue glow casting eerie reflections on the leaves covering the ground, but it's swallowed by the churned-up dirt, leaving the scars in the ground black and engulfing in the darkness of the night.

The smell of raw earth along with something else, vaguely familiar, is heavy along with the crispness of the late November night.

For a moment he hesitates. He could turn back, get back to Trollmarked and regroup...

The trail of destruction is easy to follow.

Two trolls fighting in a forest isn't exactly subtle.

So he does. Follow it.

He follows the gouge-marks and broken branches, turned-up rocks and something just shy of a crater- oh, it's an up-rooted tree, too thick for him to ever have a chance to get his arms even half-way around…

Yes, trolls are very subtle.

Bular is still here somewhere, Strickler somehow has convinced him that a game of cat and mouse will be beneficial and maybe-

A shattering roar makes him jump. He spins around in a complete circle, staring blindly between the dark trees. Expecting Bular to come charging at any second.

But then, he realize it's another _memory_. Just sounds, no images this time. Following instantly is a piercing scream of agony, a crash and then nothing.

He must have been fading in and out after Bular threw him into the rock because it's all disjointed and strange.

Still, he stays motionless. He doesn't even breathe for almost a minute, listening for everything. _Anything_.

Bular have the stealth of an elephant in a china-shop, but Strickler can sneak up on _anything_. He has the creepy ability of seemingly just appearing, anywhere, usually behind Jim.

The thought makes him spin around again, surprised when Strickler isn't there waiting behind him.

After what feels like an eternity, and briefly wondering where Blinky and AARRRGH!-

 _Can't think of them, have to focus._

Blinky's advice echoes in his head; "keep your mind on the fight, anything else will get you killed." He lost track of them after they crossed the bridge, but they know what they're doing. AARRRGH! can defend them both if need be, no matter how pacifist he is, he won't let anyone hurt Blinky.

He finally starts moving again, one syrupy step at a time, his breath fogging in the cold night but he don't feel the sharpness of the air at all, adrenaline coursing through him, making him hyper-aware of every sound the forest isn't making.

His foot hits something hard and reflexively he looks down with a stifled gasp, expecting another branch or possibly Bular coming right out of the ground for him, but… that is _not_ a branch, it's- one of Bular's _horns_! And it's _broken_! Clean off close to the base, if the thickness is anything to go by!

 _Holy shit!_

Flipping it over something shiny falls off it. One of Strickler's knives…

What the _hell_ is going on here?!

That's when he notice it.

Even with only the light of a half-crescent moon and the pale light of his armor, the streaks of blood is all too clear now that he knows to look for it. It feels- that smell, the one he couldn't place before- it's everywhere and nearly overwhelming. Blood. On the leaf-covered ground, a splatter high on a tree trunk next to the dagger-like stump of another broken branch, big drops leading farther into a denser part of the wood…

His disjointed memories, the fact that he's conclusively not dead… It starts coming together in an entirely impossible scenario. Yet there's evidence supporting it _everywhere_.

But _why_?

Even with the still-pumping adrenaline his arms are exhausted and he still has occasional spots dancing in front of his eyes, even if they've gotten smaller. He wonders again where Blinky and AARRRGH! is but he… He has to find Strickler. No matter what went down he will at the very least get some answers out of him.

He steps through a tangle of broken branches littering the ground, a literal hole in a forest-wall. The moonlight barely gets through here but it's not the darkness that stops him in his tracks just a few steps in, or the absolute devastation inside the thicket. It's the silhouette of a torn-off, shredded _wing,_ hanging off of the lowest branches, one end grazing the ground, still dripping. Dark red looking like crude oil pooling in the deal leaves, a sliver of bright-pink bone catching a single beam of moonlight.

Bular's work no doubt, but… they're… allies. Aren't they? He knows they more or less hate each other, but they still work together! Right?

He can't stop staring at the evidence of a really messed up turn of tides. More flashes of memories, Strickler… turning on Bular. Standing between himself and the huge troll intent on killing him…

Out of nowhere the image of a neat row of Strickler's knives, embedded in Bular's arm, flicker through him mind.

Speaking of, where the hell _is_ Bular?

He steps out into a clearing not far from the… wing…

 _Stop thinking of that thing._

He has to keep moving.

Huge trees far apart, scattering the moonlight, the slight frost in the air more noticeable here, along with an almost overwhelming smell of copper and sulfur. And the ever-present signs of a savage fight.

Three steps out of the clearing and something by the root of the closest tree catches his attention.

It's another horn. A _familiar_ one.

 _A trap_ his training tells him.

Bular may not be as smart as Gunmar, and even farther from Strickler, but he still has enough wits to realize that Jim at the very least will look to his old teacher-turned-nemesis for answers. Interrogation. This could easily be a bait.

He savagely squashes the urge to just run over. He'll never accomplish anything if he gets himself killed now.

 _Trap trap trap it's a trap_ his mind keeps chanting.

The tree is large enough to at least carry Bular, but maybe not conceal him from all angles, and the clearing is relatively small, so it won't take him long to at least circle it, get a better view, assess, spot dangers and trolls in trees.

He already knows what he'll find by now. There's no rush anymore… The sinking feeling at that thought is… somewhat of a surprise but also not surprising at all.

The smell of churned dirt, cracked wood and blood is heavy here, like the wood is keeping it contained.

Almost two-thirds around he sees the goblin that's tried to kill him for the better part of the last year. He's on his side, back to the tree, and even from a distance Jim can see his chest covered in bleeding claw-marks, a wing lying at an all-too-wrong angle up against the wood for it not to be broken in several places, probably way beyond saving even if the changeling was still alive. An arm is stretched out from under him, clawed hand limp, gripping at nothing but air.

Even from the edge of the clearing, in the inky-black shade under the tree the contrast between blood and skin is stark and he find himself suddenly reluctant to approach. He don't really _want_ it confirmed. At all! This- shouldn't happen!

But before he even knows that he's moving he finds himself on his knees in front of the changeling, tree-trolls and brutes forgotten, Bular forgotten because he needs _answers_! Armor gone, the light is even fainter but he can still see too _much_.

The knife-collar as well as the cape is gone, and some distant part of Jim wonders if the cape and collar was some kind of disguise for his wings. He can't remember seeing the cape along with the flapping wings when Strickler was on Bular's back, or any hint of wings beneath the cape the times he's confronted the changeling in his true form. Granted, he'd been busy staying alive those times and hadn't thought of memorizing changeling-anatomy.

He rally wishes the cape was still there, though, if only to obscure the horrific stump of the ripped-off wing sticking out of his back, bone just as pink as the other end of it, lying forgotten in the woods.

The other one, in addition to being broken, or rather _crushed_ now that he's had a closer look, is also shredded, the membrane torn and useless but not actively bleeding, not like the rest of his-

Actively… as in... 'heart still beating' actively...

\- Shit!

He jumps up, looking around wildly for- anything really, to help stop the flow of red. Finding nothing he tears off his jacket, grateful he dressed in layers before going out tonight. Summoning Daylight he sheers off a sleeve and quickly wraps it around the wing-stump, wincing as he puts pressure directly on the wound, feeling a piece of what must be bone shift and grate against another. He's never been happier for a cry of pain from a supposedly-mortal enemy before or the feel of a body spasming in agony.

Or for the intense courses of advanced first aid his mom makes him renew every. single. year. Benefits of a doctor-mom.

Next is the claw-marks. Which is… everywhere, okay, but the ones on his chest and a bite-mark on the shoulder seems worst. He tries not to focus on the glimpse of bone-pink peeking out from a deep one across the ribs.

Strickler don't move or make a sound, but he's breathing, and Jim keeps praying he'll keep on breathing for a while longer.

The rest is what he might call 'barely superficial' on AARRRGH!, while on Strickler they're serious enough, but they shouldn't kill the man even without binding, at least if he can stop the more serious ones.

Besides, he's already running out of jacket so he has to prioritize.

Getting the make-shift bandages to stay _put_ is another thing entirely. There's really not a lot of tape to come by in the middle of a dark forest on a late Saturday night.

However, he's distracted from that particular predicament when twin slits revealing yellow-green, bioluminescent eyes opens. A twitch runs through the half-troll, he looks confused but then he looks up and just stares at him. His breathing becomes more labored as he becomes more aware, the signs of severe pain as well as fear clearer by the second. It doesn't take long before he squeezes his eyes shut again.

\- Easy.

This morning, if anyone had told him he'd try to keep his teacher/ nemesis alive, that he'd _worry_ about him, he'd have either laughed in their faces or called the mental institution. Or both.

Now however, he don't even notice himself edging closer, resting a hand on a blood-covered shoulder, but Strickler does, clawed hand twitching and eyes cracking open again to peer up at him in question.

His voice is a dry rasp when he tries to speak, but all that comes out is garble that might have been a string of curses in Trollish, the name Bular and then his eyes slips shut again.

\- Hey! Come on, stay awake, stay with me.

He squeeze the shoulder he's still resting a hand on. If he can keep the changeling awake he'll have a better chance of survival. Something about shock according to his mom, he can't think straight enough to remember right now.

His only reward for that thought is a snarl and burning yellow eyes glaring up at him.

Then the idiot tries to lift his head.

And if the cut-off roar that follows don't tell Bular _exactly_ where they are then nothing will!

\- Shit, stay still you moron! And shut _up_!

He looks around, waiting for the huge troll to come charging, but everything is silent except the gasping breaths coming from Strickler.

\- Don't do that again.

He instinctively whispers through his teeth, all too aware of Bular somewhere out there looking for them.

\- Why'd you do that anyway?

This time he actually understands the hoarse answering croak.

\- …go 'way…

\- Uh, yeah, not gonna happen, dude, not until I get some answers. Probably not even then.

Strickler just bares his fangs at him, but if it's meant as a threat or just a reaction to amounting pain is impossible to tell. He just keep glaring daggers as if it's Jim that's put him there, until he seems to decide that staring malevolently at a twig in front of his nose is a better option.

\- So why'd you do it? Why'd you turn on Bular?

 _That_ at least gets a reaction. Yellow eyes goes wide and- he looks like he's been caught stealing. And then he just seem to deflate. Give up.

But Jim hasn't come this far to let him do that now, so he leans forward to prod a horn before he remembers he's still holding the sad leftovers of his favorite jacket to the changeling's still-bleeding chest. The movement is not appreciated as Strickler growls deep and finally glares back up at him, but the anger and threat in the growl is not in his eyes. Instead there's just a weary hopelessness left.

\- Why?

\- …

\- _Why_?

\- …don't know…

\- You… don't know why you decided to turn on your own leader? Boss? Attack him?

He arched a dubious brow.

\- …you… he was gh…

The rest is lost as another twitch makes the changeling hiss and curl in on himself and it's all too clear he's not going to last unless he gets help _soon_. His breathing turns to panicking gasps and Jim don't even bother to feel awkward as he moves to place a hand on the side of his head to try to calm him down, the ingrained desire to _help_ , _comfort_ , yelling at him to do _anything who cares what or who he is, everyone deserves help, it's not up to you to be judge and jury!_ Besides, after all the beatings he's taken during both training and combat, he knows very well how much physical contact helps.

 _Keep him awake, keep him talking._

 _Annoy him._

 _And don't think about all those times you went to him for advice on anything from exam questions to girl problems._

If the changeling has anything against the move he doesn't say anything.

\- Fine, don't answer you stubborn, green string-bean.

Hah! Score! Strickler snarls. Seems to be his default reactions right now, but he stays awake, which was the whole point.

\- But, I'm not letting you off the hook, as soon as you're fixed up you _will_ answer my questions and then-

The crack of a branch has him jumping to his feet, a rush of adrenaline, armor on and Daylight in his hand in half a heartbeat, staring towards the sound, ready to def-

\- Master Jim!

Blinky!

\- Jim!

And AARRRGH!

\- Thank goodness we found you, we were afraid Bular had taken you with him!

\- You- you saw Bular leave?

He straightens at this, tension flowing out of him like a raging river. Bular is gone! For now.

\- Indeed we did, but we weren't close enough to see much of anything, and then we couldn't find you! Poor AARRRGH! was terrified he'd taken you wherever he went, but I knew you'd be just fine.

AARRRGH! rolled his eyes as Blinky pretends to not having been panicking just seconds earlier. He always acts super-confident then.

\- But here you are! And still in one piece, I hope?

 _Oh dude, phrasing!_

\- I am but he's not. Literally.

Gesturing to Strickler and stepping aside so Blinky can see the full extent of the damage he isn't prepared for the shriek emitted by the six-eyed troll, but he _is_ too tired to startle at such a sound anymore. Let's face it, Blinky shrieks... quite often. He's getting used to it.

With the other two trolls here and the confirmation of Bular leaving, the last of the adrenaline makes a hasty retreat and all he want to do right now is sleep for a week!

\- The changeling! Finally! Well done Master Jim, now you just have to finish him and then-

 _Wait what?_

\- What?! No! Blinky, I can't-

\- Master Jim, he's a _changeling_! _The_ changeling who's been trying to _kill_ you since you took up the mantle of Trollhunter! Why are you hesitating? It's not like you haven't killed enemies before. I know changelings are a bit more... messy to deal with, but no worse than goblins and-

\- I'm not! I'm not _hesitating_ I'm just not _doing_ it! And that's just it, he's not an enemy! Not any more!

\- Jim, you're obviously tired, that _is_ Stricklander, I guarantee it, now all you have to do is-

\- Blinky, NO! He saved my life! He saved my life and it almost got him killed!

Blinky and AARRRGH! stare at him wide-eyed, Blinky looking like he think Jim's gone absolutely mad and AARRRGH! in a thoughtful, indecipherable way.

\- ...Master Jim, I could… should I get-

\- Forget it, Blinky! Nobody's laying a finger on him unless it's to _help_ , you got that?

It's weird standing up to Blinky like this. He's too tired for this, he's aching all over and he don't even notice the protective stance he's taken between the changeling and his own mentor. He's staring Blinky down, a challenge in itself, what with not enough eyes and Blinky's taler than him, but AARRRGH! break the stand-off when he rumbles.

\- Second chance.

Blinky turns to AARRRGH! with a stunned face, betrayed outrage clear as day all over him.

\- AARRRHG! you can't be serious! He's a changeling! He works for Bular! For _Gunmar_!

AARRRGH! just stare at Blinky with a sad smile.

\- My second chance.

Aaaaaand cue Blinky's deflation.

\- Still… he's a changeling! Master Jim-

Blinky turns and waves his arms like a convincing argument is floating somewhere in the air and all he has to do is catch it.

\- He's a troll, Blinky. Or, at least half of one. And he saved my life. He defended me _against_ Bular. What kind of Trollhunter would I be if I didn't at least _attempt_ to return the favor?

\- But… your mother, what he did…

\- I'm not saying I forgive him for using her like that, I'm just saying he deserves a chance!

Blinky is coming around, he can see it.

 _-_ Please Blinky, let Vendel have a look at him, see what he can do. There's no saving his wings but-

\- Bring him into _Trollmarked_ , Jim have you gone insane?!

 _Shit_...

\- If anyone finds out they'll tear him apart! And then they'll tear _us_ apart! Or worse! I'm too young to die! And as for Vendel, he's likely to _lead_ the mob! He'll _never_ help a changeling!

\- Well can't we at least try?! He don't have to stay there, just long enough for Vendel to patch him up, then he can… I dunno, go home or something? He has a house- apartment- I know that much.

\- Jim, I really cannot allow you to-

\- Information! If nothing else Vendel will save him for information! Think about it, you said it yourself, he works for Gunmar, I bet he knows all kinds of things that'll help us!

Luckily Blinky can't seem to find any argument against that, he's a great strategist after all, and knows the value of inside information.

\- Second chance!

AARRRGH! rumbles again, having apparently made a decision without them and push both Blinky and Jim aside, looks down at the skinny, green, now _glaring_ changeling, cocks his head, thinks for a second and shrugs before he picks him up.

Strickler growls and gives a shout and a kick at being moved, struggles feebly but stand no chance against AARRRGH!'s decisive yet careful handling. AARRRGH! adjusts his hold to accommodate for both the broken and torn-off wing, but by the time he's done the changeling has passed out anyway.

He stands with the skinny half-troll in his arms, the horned head resting on a furry arm, legs sticking out like twigs and by some absolute miracle the makeshift bandages has stayed on.

Jim can only watch as AARRRGH! stares at Blinky like he's daring him to say no, but with two against one, and the tantalizing promise of information, Blinky apparently decides he has nothing more to say.

He simply shrugs and gestures for them all to get going.

* * *

 **Because** **I absolutely would love to see the avocado-changeling redeemed and fighting on the good side!**

 **Also I dig that weird sort of changeling-dad-son-turned-enemies-but-changeling-is-also-dating-mom-and-son-has-to-pretend-it's-only-slightly-weird-because-mom-don't-know-about-trolls-and-principal thing Jim and Strickler has going on in canon!**

 **And I figure Strickler's** _ **got**_ **to have some kind of… protective instincts, right? He's known Jim for some years I gather, Jim's his star student, and in that first episode he has a damn nickname for the kid! Sooo I figure when he sees that Bular is ACTUALLY gonna kill the boy this time he just can't help himself, but I bet he'd** _ **also**_ **be confused as to 'why the hell-WHAT am I doing why am I doing this?!' Poor avocado don't understand fatherly feelings yet :-P**

 **And pain… I love making my favorite characters suffer! Mwhahahaha!**

 **Sorry Walt(olomew, wtf) but not sorry!**


End file.
